


Remember The Time...?

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Cuddles, M/M, Striders with piercings, stories of little dave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1289260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Dave and Bro cuddle, Dave asks about how he was when he was young.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember The Time...?

   "Bro?" There was a small grunt that more than likely meant 'I'm sleeping, what the hell do you want' coming from your brother. Your back was pressed to his front, and he had one arm lazily thrown over you, a mix of pale clear skin and tanned skin with splashes of freckles about...everywhere. You snuggled into him a bit more. "Tell me about when I was kid."

   That woke up your brother. He sat up and stretched his back before laying back down and putting you both in a more comfortable position. Strong arms wrapped around you ,and Bro pulled you closer resting his chin on your head of hair so blonde it was almost white. You could feel the vibrations through your back and hear the deep laughter. "What do you wanna know little dude?" He hugged you tighter and moved his mouth to the back of your neck. You shrugged.

   "Just stories." Bro laughed again and moved his lips from your neck to speak.

   "Stories?" You could hear the smile in his voice. "Alright, story one. What do you remember about kindergarten?"

   "Naps. Juice boxes. I think there were hamsters."

   "I don't know about hamsters, but I do remember 'Career Day'." You didn't remember career day, but you could already tell something bad was gonna happen. " Basically, everyone had their 'parental figures' come in and talk about their jobs. There was a lawyer, and a doctor, and I'm pretty sure like a chef or some shit. Pretty normal jobs, right? So I walk up to the front of the room, and I look all good because I'm in a nice white shirt, and clean shaven, and like _ten years younger_ ," he whispered those last words right into your ear and then proceeded to harass your ear with his teeth, running his tongue over the tiny diamond studs in your lobe and cartilage.

   You swatted at him. "Story time," you reminded him.

   "Yeah, yeah," he answered with a sigh. "Anyway, I walk up there, looking good, and I look over at you, and you look _terrified_. Just a face full of sheer horror."

   "Did You give me a reason to look like that?"

   "Oh definitely. I had smuppets in each hand, teaching you children the basics."

   "Oh god," you groaned.

   He laughed. "The teacher and the parents all looked _disgusted,_ except for this one mom who was waayyy too into it. You had a blanket or something with you, and you were trying to choke yourself. It was great!"

   You buried your head in your hands. "Story time's over." You moved to get up from the bed. The strong tan arms pulled you back.

   "No no no! I'm liking story time! What's next? Oh, remember your fourth birthday?"

   "Remember yours?"

   "True. So I was getting a good sleep, and I hear a rattling coming from where you were."

   "Did get your katana and check out whatever it was only to realize it was your imagination?"

   "No, I slept on because I had worked that night to keep a roof over your head and apple juice in the fridge." Your probably looked pissed considering the fact there was a good chance it could've been a burglar. "Turns out though it was only you and you were climbing out of your crib and-," you cut him off.

   "Crib?"

   "That's what I said."

   "I thought I was four at this point."

   "You were." You almost asked your next question, but Bro beat you to the answer. " We have one bedroom. I wasn't about relocate camp Dirk to the couch for a four year old, nah son." You couldn't help but laugh. "So you're out of your crib and you walk over to where I was peacefully sleeping, climb onto the bed and _sit on me_. Like some sort of animal. You started to hit my cheeks until I woke up and asked what the hell you wanted to which you said, and I quote," Bro cleared his throat before mimicking four year old in a high pitched exaggeration," 'it's my birfday and I want... pancakes."

   "I didn't say 'birfday'."

   "You said birfday, the sky is blue, and these are facts. I checked the time and it was five in the goddamn morning, so I took my ass back to bed, and what did you do? You leaned right into my ear and like a majestic vulture _screeched_   'BRO BRO BRO BRO BRO' over and over until I got up at five in the morning and made all these goddamn pancakes. And how many did you eat? One. I made stacks upon stacks of pancakes like you ordered, and you ate one."

   More laughing.

   Your brother started to run a hand through your hair. "You were basically an ass of a child, if that satisfies any question you had."

   "It doesn't"

   "Of course it doesn't." He stopped petting you long enough to plant a kiss on your shoulder. Trying to buy time for running out of stories. Weak ass tactics. They worked but still.

   Bro made an 'ah' sounds. "More stories," you asked.

   "More stories," he confirmed. "State fair ring a bell?"

   "It probably does. It probably rings a shit load of bells. So many bells you can't take a piss without having to clean bells out of the way. I wouldn't know though; I've never been."

   "Wrong. Took you when you were like seven months."

   "Lucky me."

   "Lucky you, indeed. Story starts, we're at the fair and you're strapped to my chest like a good child. Well, we walk into this convention center and you started thrashing' like the terrible child you were so I took you out of the little harness and let you walk around. So you're stumbling around and we're walking through this giant gallery of paintings, I think it was, and I stopped for one second to look at one, and the next thing I know you're _gone._ You couldn't even walk, but you had somehow fucking zoomed off. I'm running all over this giant center and eventually this _giant ass_ fair looking for you."

   "Did you ever find me?"

   Bro kissed your shoulder between your talking. "Shh, I'm getting there. I found some police officer and he starts radioing every cop there, and let me tell you there are a lot of donut-eating nasty mustached cops at a state fair, and eventually three fourths of the Texas PD is sweeping the entire place looking for you."

   "And they found me strapped to your chest?"

   "Excuse you, who's running story time? Besides, I'm not that stupid. No, after _five fucking hours_ we found inside a ginormous cowboy statue eating funnel cake. You weren't even tall enough to reach the goddamn doorknob, but there you were bathed in powdered sugar."

   "And?"

   "And of course I got into major trouble. All those cops were all over me asking a bunch of questions like 'how did this baby get here', 'what the hell is he wearing on his face', 'is this even your child' because, you know, I actually looked like I've lived in Texas all my life and not Antarctica like you do. So, I explained to every cop at the state fair that we're brothers ,and I honestly had no idea how you got there, and, no, this was not me trying to abandon a baby and then changing mind only to forget where he was."

   "Someone actually thought that?"

   "Like four people," Bro confirmed.

   "Were you carrying a sword of any kind?"

   "Maybe," he said, holding out the 'y'. He nuzzled into your neck," You smell like apple juice."

   "Apple juice smells fucking amazing."

   " _You_ smell fucking amazing." You could hear the smile in his voice. It was so cliché it was cute. "Ever tell to you about the Hodgensons?"

   "I don't know 'em so nope."

   "When you were about four, five, the people who lived in the complex across the streets were the Hodgensons. The Hodgensons hated us with an intense passion. Whenever we would strife, one, if not both of them, would watch us with phones in hand ready to call the cops. One day, Mr. Hodgenson decided he had had enough and came banging on the door with his wife in tow. I was busy shooting a bloody horror puppet film so you decided to be an angel and answer the door. Thing was about a second after I opened up the door there was fake blood _everywhere_ and Kermit's head comes rolling out of the door and the Hodgensons moved the next day."

   "Is that why all the neighbors hate us?"

   "No, the neighbors hate us because of the _loud ass immoral_ _sounds you make all night._ " Bro skimmed a hand up your side.

   "The neighbors can blame you for that." You turned around and saw happy orange eyes staring you down, no shades this early in the morning. "You got any more?"

   "Oh yeah."

   And he did. Your brother told a few more stories before your eventual cuddling turned into eventual kissing and eventually you and your brother gave the neighbors a reason to hate you both even more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If I did something wrong please tell me in the ask box on my tumblr mentioned in my profile. That bit about career day was based off this little piece of art: http://rebloggy.com/post/lol-homestuck-dave-strider-bro-strider-bro-dirk-strider-dirk/41067417763  
> Hodgensons were also from a piece of art I've seen a long time ago but couldn't find it.
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: i dont write this pairing anymore


End file.
